Then again rises to your pen, smothering and escaped sparks; and I am desired to hurry myself to get cold water to quench the flame — Dear, dear madam, what images are here? And applied — To whom? — And by whom? — Have I written any-thing so very blazing? — Surely I have not. But you should not say you will all forgive me, if this be my sad situation. You should not say, how much you are your — selves, all of you, in love with this excellent man; and talk of Mr. Dawson, and of what he says of him: but you should have told me, that if I suffer my gra-titude to grow into love, you will never forgive me; then should I have had a call of duty to check or controul a passion, that you were afraid could not be

Well, and there is no way left for me, it seems, but to fly for it! To hurry away to Northampton-shire, and either to begin a new treaty with Lord D. or to give hope to an old lover. Poor Harriet Byron! And is it indeed so bad with thee? And does thy aunt Selby think it is?

But is there no hope that the man will take pity of thee? When he sees thee so sadly entangled, will he not vouchsafe to lend an extricating hand?

Oh, no — Too much obliged, as thou already art, how canst thou expect to be farther obliged? Oblig-ed in the highest degree?

But let me try if I cannot play round this bright, this beamy taper, without singeing my wings! I fancy it is not yet quite so bad with me! At least, let me stand this one visit of tomorrow: and then if I find reason to think I cannot stand it, I will take the kind advice, and fly for it; rather than add another hope-less girl to the half-score that perhaps have been long sighing for this best of men.

But even then, my aunt, that is to say, were I to fly, and take shelter under your protecting wings, I shall not, I hope, think it absolutely necessary to light up one flame, in order to extinguish another. I shall always value Mr. Orme as a friend; but indeed I am less than ever inclined to think of him in a nearer light.

As to Lady D.‘s proposal, it admits not with me of half a thought. You know, my dearest aunt, that I am not yet rejected by one with whom you are all in love — But this seriously I will own (and yet I hope nothing but my gratitude is engaged, and that indeed is a very powerful tie) that since I have seen and known Sir Charles Grandison, I have not only (as before) an indifference, but a dislike, to all other men. And I think> if 1 know my own heart, I had rather converse but an hour in a week with him, and with Miss Grandison, than be the wife of any man I have ever seen or known.